Finn had told Puck not to worry about getting the food for dinner the first night of Hanukkah. It’s almost sunset on Sunday night, and all Puck has done for Hanukkah is get out the electric menorah and retrieve the box of rugelach he bought at the temple bake sale the day before and promptly hidden so Finn wouldn’t eat them.
Once it gets closer to sunset, Puck sends a quick text. Sure you don’t need me to pick anything up?
I’ve got everything so don’t worry Finn texts back.
Puck shrugs and takes the rugelach down the hall to the dorm kitchen. A lot of people thought they were weird for living in the dorm even in their senior year, but it works out pretty well for them most of the time. No one’s in the kitchen when Puck gets in there, probably because of finals starting on Wednesday. It’s close to fifteen or twenty minutes later when Puck hears Finn coming down the hall.
“I think I got everything,” Finn announces as he enters the kitchen, a plastic grocery sack in one hand and a large McDonald’s bag in the other.
“Yeah?” Puck says, ignoring the bags for a moment to lean in and give Finn a quick kiss. “McDonald’s?”
“They don’t sell latkes at Chief’s,” Finn says. “I improvised.”
“You didn’t think they would, did you?” Puck asks. “I mean, it’s still Lima.” He slides their two plates towards Finn. “I left the menorah in the room, figured we’d… cook? In here.”
“I thought maybe they’d have them with the hot foods in the deli, but they didn’t. I got hashbrowns, though. We probably want to stick ‘em in the toaster oven,” Finn says, setting the McDonald’s bag on the counter.
“Just… not with additional oil, right?”
“I think they’ve got enough oil,” Finn says. He points at the glossy oil-stains on the bag. “See?”
“Maybe the worker at McDonald’s was Jewish,” Puck says diplomatically. “What else did you get, exactly?”
“I got all the right stuff for the latk—er, hashbrowns. Applesauce, sour cream.” Finn takes a 6 pack of individually-packaged applesauce out of the Chief’s sack, then one enormous carton of sour cream, followed by what appears to be a ziploc bag of sandwich meat.
“What… what’s the lunchmeat for?” Puck asks hesitantly.
“It’s brisket. I mean, corned beef, technically, but it’s the closest they had.”
“Oh, yeah, okay,” Puck says. “So we’re having faux-brisket and hashbrowns?”
“That’s what your mom always had,” Finn says. “I mean, she had the real version, but I tried.”
Puck tries not to grin, because Finn really had tried, but this is definitely a dorm-room version of a Hanukkah meal. “Yeah, you did,” he agrees. “You know you didn’t have to do all this, right? It’s great! Don’t misunderstand. But you didn’t have to.”
“But I wanted us to have a good first Hanukkah together,” Finn says.
“We’ve technically had Hanukkah together before?”
“But not as, you know, a couple.”
Puck goes ahead and grins. “Yeah, okay. Do you want to eat in here or in the room?”
“We should go eat by the light of the menorah,” Finn says.
“Okay. Hopefully the rugelach’s good,” Puck says as he picks up one of the plates. “I have a question for you though.”
“Since it’s our first Christmas, too, can we go with something like a gingerbread house kit over cutting down our own tree?”
Finn grins. “Yeah. I like gingerbread more than chopping trees, anyway.”